Why you should never leave me at home with a cranky toddler, Twitter, and Photoshop…

copyrights aren't really applicable, but let's pretend you care that it came from me...

For those of you who are (understandably) confused, if not reaching for the anti-psychotics, this came as a result of following Wil Wheaton’s Twitter feed to this blog. The woman who writes it is certifiably insane, and I am officially addicted to her particular brand of crazy. She managed to alienate William-fucking-Shatner (copyright Wil Wheaton, circa 2003/2004), which isn’t that hard but still deserves props… If you can out-crazy Shatner, you’re on to something. Or just on something. Either works.

She has also been having a crapgasm of a week so far, from what I’ve been reading, and her randomness veered sharply toward asking the public, at large, to post pictures of themselves with twine. Now, I (being such a giving soul) felt the need to comfort her in her hour/day/week/insert time-frame here of need. Cut to the part where I horribly abused Google for appropriately-themed base pictures of Nathan Fillion, until I finally found one of him holding a golden fish of some sort. Shoop-da-woop and posted to Flickr, then tweeted to her the fact that such a thing now existed. Thankfully the response has been positive.

Then I received a request from one of her followers that I insert twine into a screencap from one of Mister Fillion’s famous nude scenes in the episode “Trash” from Firefly.

Oh, well, fine. You totally twisted my arm.

Please don't sue me, Nathan... I mean it as flattery! Honest!

The result has been that my Twitter following has tripled inside a day! Now if only I had something valuable to say… The Bloggess already has the market cornered on Wil Wheaton collating paper and otters headbanging in her attic…

At least I feel at home in the padded cell that is the Internet.

Hope your week improves, ‘Bloggess, and I’m glad your taxidermied alligator made it through TSA without a hitch.

And Nathan? My profound apologies. I hope we can still be friends.

UPDATE: I have been asked to clarify my earlier statements regarding Shatner’s sanity. I don’t have a note from his doctor. I have simply observed insane levels of assholishness from the man in public. After a certain amount of assholishness, one has to assume the person is a.) delusional b.) on/off meds c.) a fucking fruitbasket. Still, I do enjoy watching him in Shit My Dad Says… Yeah yeah, I’m fickle. What of it?